World of Sights and Sounds
by Cooper Writer Crafter
Summary: …We at times sit on a corner, seeing life through our own eyes Then one day someone surprises us, Shares that corner until it becomes the world…:NEARMELLO: AU story as brothers
1. Enclosing Spaces

**XXX**

**WORLD OF SIGHTS AND SOUNDS**

_(An AU story of Near and Mello as brothers)_

**XXX**

…_We at times sit on a corner, seeing life through our own eyes_

_Then one day someone surprises us, _

_Shares that corner until it becomes the world…_

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**

**The creation of this story is once again inspired by the events in my life as I dealt with my brother's autism. I used the characters of Mello and Near to symbolize my relationship with my brother. This story is not of Death Note content. The canon characters will be somehow OC and if you do not wish to continue reading such material then it is your choice. I thank those who would still read and review this and will appreciate and respect your opinion but let us refrain from flaming and leave the story right now if you could only close your mind to degrade it. I shall not appreciate vulgar, childish remarks. Constructive criticisms will be gratified. Some instances here narrated happened while I am taking Special Education course and has motivated me to construct the entire plot of this story. Thank you to my avid readers and I hope this piece of literature will be another enjoyable reading experience.**

**Enclosing Spaces**

_**2003**_

The quiet, if not entirely serene, household would indicate the absence of occupants. However, this one household receives a tranquil atmosphere only during mid-afternoon when the parents are still at work and the eldest son is at school. One boy was left by himself during these moments. He was about ten years of age and by first glance, he projects that kind of meekness rare to be displayed by ten-year-old boys. He was hardly effeminate but rather reclusive and with that comes isolation from other children. It's not as if it's an option he chose. He preferred only isolation because it granted him solace and, considering the work that he is engaged into, he needs such solace.

He was sitting on the floor while constructing a puzzle composed of a thousand of pieces. He was almost done after only an hour of absorbed, self-centered attention to his toy. He kept his eyes on each piece, probably amused of the form taking shape, of the picture evolving as he puts together one piece to another. Needless to say he seemed rather stagnant of the process and there was hardly a sense of achievement once he placed the last piece at the upper left corner of the puzzle. He eyed it for a long moment with a finger twirling a strand of hair from his untidy mattress of silver locks. Then he reached out for his teddy bear beside him, hugging it not for comfort but because he has a peculiar fixation with objects (toys in particular.)

Nate River Wammy was diagnosed as an autism savant and since age four, he has been home-schooled by different special education teachers. He was not entirely a likeable child since he is preoccupied with things rather than people and eye contact is quite impossible for him even if it was with family. He was, however, attached to his older brother, Mihael, who paid the slightest bit of attention to him for a very long time. The mind of a boy like Nate is incomprehensible, wired by jargon lines that consist of pathways that could not be traveled. Few have left him untouched out of indifference or few could never touch him at all even if they aspire to, not even his parents. Remained shut like a padlocked door, Nate lives and breathes for the completion of a trivial task like a puzzle. There was no merriment in work for an autistic child. There were only gaping holes they try to unearth with the use of their carefully crafted minds.

It was already six in the evening when the door swung open and Mihael entered the house in his usual tired gait. He noticed Nate on the floor and went straight to his room to throw his bags across the bed. Then he walked back to the living room, hardly noticing his brother's presence. Mihael yawned and switched on the television. He flipped through channels but knew he really didn't feel like watching anything. He did feel like talking to himself. So he talked to Nate.

"My classmates asked about you again, Near." Mihael began in a bored tone. He called Nate "_Near_," claiming he derived it from the word "_neurotic_."

Nate did not even bother with a noncommittal response. He never really hears things when he is supposed to. Mihael did not mind talking to a statue though. He was raised alongside this stranger and he practically couldn't care anymore.

He did not glance at Nate when his younger brother started reaching for a platter of cookies their mother left earlier for them. Nate stared at the cookies then he tore off a clean sheet of paper. Mihael anticipated for this. He waited, glancing once in a while as his brother started picking out the chocolate chunks then neatly placing them on the paper. As soon as he was done, a commercial was playing on the background, a sailor singing about a giant octopus. Nate sang along, imitating perfectly every tune and syllable. Mihael chuckled unwillingly. It was like Nate's automatic response when something as ordinary as commercial rhymes catches his attention span when he would answer back rarely to his brother who was talking to him.

Mihael did not want to understand it. He had loved Nate somehow but most of the time, it was an obligatory love. He glanced at Nate who was munching on the cookies. Then he glanced at the chocolate chunks on the piece of paper.

"Mello should eat his share," Nate said as Mihael looked at him.

Nate's earliest childhood memory of his brother was the pack of marshmallows he bought for his fifth birthday. Nate started calling him "_Mello_" since then. It was easier for him to pronounce that word. So Mihael return the favor and called him "_Neurotic Nate_" or "_Near_" for short.

Mihael leaned closer to the table where Nate laid down the piece of paper. He swept the chocolate chunks with his palm and popped them in his mouth. He leaned back to the sofa once more, keeping his eyes on the television screen.

Nate was dissecting his finished puzzle once more. He scattered them and was putting them back together like before. Mihael switched off the television to watch his brother. They stayed like that for another hour. It wasn't anything special to Mihael. He always watched his brother, beckoning for answers he knew he will never get. He hoped, of course, but as he got older every year, the hope was soon realized to be common sense and it tells him Nate will never let him in. Ever. So he contentedly chose to watch him play.

By seven-thirty, Nate's alarm clock rang. He was given one to accommodate him with his scheduled tasks for the day. Mihael ignored it and watched closely how his brother responds.

"Mello should change into his pajamas."

"It's your bedtime, Near, not mine."

Nate finished the puzzle for the fifth time that day. He stared at it again while twisting a strand of silver hair. Mihael blew his golden bangs away from his eyes.

Mihael finally stood up. "Let's go brush your teeth, Near."

"Mello should wait," Nate was rocking back and forth just a little. Then he awkwardly stood up and followed Mihael to the bathroom.

Mihael helped Nate put toothpaste on his toothbrush. Quite methodically, Nate started to brush his teeth with eyes closed. Mihael watched him. Then he helped his brother wash his hands and face. They went back to Nate's room to put on his pajamas. Nate liked to do this alone. He buttons his pajama shirt starting at the end and then tucks his undergarments very slowly. Mihael learned to look around just to stop himself from getting annoyed from his brother's persistently unhurried habits.

He glanced at the countless puzzle pieces on the desk and then at the five puzzle boards supposedly meant for them. Nate must have done all these boards a dozen times now.

"You want a new puzzle, Near?" Mello asked placidly, eyes still fixed upon the ball of red yarn beside the puzzle boards. Nate also likes to play with that thing for no reason. The room was filled with all kinds of toys but there is one specific toy that Mello knew was very important to his younger brother.

He walked to the plain choo-choo train set and held up the said toy train. He switched it on and watched it cross the small rail tracks. Nate was lying on his bed quite stiffly. Mihael turned back his attention to the boy. "Close your eyes and try not to sneak out of bed, okay?" Mihael pulled the covers to his brother's chest and watch the blank stare Nate gave him.

"Night, Mello."

"Yeah, night-night too, Near."

He held the door open a few inches for a little light. He looked at Nate lying on the bed with eyes wide open, fixing them intently on the ceiling. The train was noisy and the noise kept his little brother comfortable.

_**2007**_

Two weeks from now Mihael would graduate from high school and he has already a university in mind and a course he has decided to major in. He was in his room with his I-pod. He increased the volume to drown every bit of silence in their house. _You'd make a quality Special Education student, Mihael,_ he said to himself. _You got the guts and the brother to prove it._

A resounding phantom train from the other room seemed to agree when it honked.


	2. Reality Impaired

**A/N: You need to go back to chapter one and read the first and last paragraph. You'll notice that I added some year dates to slightly separate scenes there. It was revised into two scenes, a flashback from four years ago then the present. I hope it wasn't too confusing.**

**Reality-impaired**

_**2007**_

Mihael got into a fight.

He said he was angry with his classmate for calling his brother an abnormal freak. So he punched him again and again until the teacher stopped him. The kid was in the hospital for two days and needed reconstructive facial procedure. Mihael's parents paid for the bill. They said nothing to him, not even scolded him for what he did. They knew the reason, of course and the family got tired discussing about Mihael's issues and Nate's autism as part of it. So they kept quiet.

Mihael still remembered it. It's been years. He could never forget.

He looked at the calendar on his cell phone and knew Nate's fourteenth birthday is approaching. Mihael was outside, waiting for the examinations to begin. He looked up at the tall building in front of him and stopped wondering what got him here. He graduated from high school a month ago. He chose to take examinations in several colleges but this one was different. Their grandfather Quillish owned it. It was a special school.

Mihael placed his cell phone back in his pocket and he started to walk back to the classroom. Everyone was getting prepared. He took a seat next to an open window and took out his pen. Answer sheets were being distributed. He watched his own paper lazily and began answering after minutes. He slouched on his seat and emptied his thoughts about the past. He tried to forget about the way Nate rolled down the stairs when he pushed him almost four years ago. He tried to forget the searing pain and the smell of burning flesh when the iron hit his face. He tried to forget everything and focus on what must be done today.

_**2003**_

Mihael woke up almost immediately when the sound of the choo-choo train no longer filled the space. He growled and roll to the side. The darn toy must be out of batteries again and he was trying to remember where he placed the new ones he bought weeks ago. He opened his eyes at last and stood up, walking to the bathroom to wash his face. Then he walked to his brother's room.

Nate wasn't there. He was gone.

"Near? Mom? Dad?"

The house was empty.

"Mom?"

He rushed to the kitchen then to the living room. "Dad?"

He opened the door and started to cross the street. He looked around, hoping to see some neighbors. Even the street was empty. He ran back inside. "Near!"

He ran passed the living room then back to the kitchen. He went to the sink. There he saw blood, some of it washed hurriedly. Then a broken plate and towels with blood. It was red everywhere. He didn't blink. A small whimper came from inside him and he headed back to Nate's room.

He landed on the bed. He grabbed the pillows. He started punching them. He started to scream. But he didn't cry or rather he couldn't.

"Near!"

He was angry. He kept punching the pillows. Then he ceased. He looked at the door. He looked at the train set. He whimpered again.

Slowly, he walked to the bathroom. He looked at himself in the mirror. He traced the scar on his face. Last night everything was okay. He and Nate were fine. It took months but they were fine. He wasn't sorry for hurting Nate because Nate wasn't sorry about the scar either. But the blood on the sink...it terrified him.

What happened?

"Micky?"

He gasped and snapped his head to the sound of his name. It was Hal, Nate's babysitter. She approached him, puzzled and hesitant.

"They took Nate to the hospital. He had an outburst again then he started to have seizures."

"Did he break the plate on his face?" Mihael's voice, to his horror, sounded too calm, even mechanical. Hal peered at him worriedly.

"It was one of his tantrums again. Your mom said you still need to go to school. I'll drive you there. Micky?"

Mihael walked back to his room. Then he asked. "Was his face bleeding?"

Hal released a sigh. "Yes. Right in the forehead and near his left eye."

_Left eye...__the left side of his face...like where his scar was._ Mihael felt woozy. He took a seat. He kept his eyes on the floor.

"Micky—"

"I'll take a bath then get dressed. I'll meet you in the car."

Hal watched him closely but she obeyed and disappeared.

Mihael wanted Nate to hurt for many years since he became aware of his condition and how it grew to be a viral disease he couldn't bear to live with. But he didn't ask for any of it to be this bad. Mihael only wanted Nate to feel pain, to feel anything. Now he smashed a plate to his face and went on an epileptic shock. And Mihael still needs to go to school. He needs to move ahead, with or without Nate. There should be a sense of relief to all of that.

He discovered, however, as if he was drying his hair and fixing his books, that there was only silence in the household and that he hoped for the sound of the choo-choo train and maybe even his brother back.

_**That night**_

Mr. and Mrs. Wammy sat down together with Mihael on the dinner table. They didn't touch their food. Mrs. Wammy prepared a steamed broccoli dish this evening. They lost their appetites a long time before dinner was prepared. Mihael didn't look at his parents. He looked at the empty plate. He wondered what went on Nate's mind that he grabbed it and slammed it on his face. Mihael let the thoughts consume him then he heard his father speak.

"Nate is stable. The doctors have to give him sixteen stitches. He needs to remain in bed. Your mother and I had a talk and we know you're old enough to understand that what we're doing is for the best. We want you to be happy and we want Nate to be happy."

"Look at your father, Mihael."

"No," Mihael pushed himself from the table. He still had his eyes on the plate and he was shaking his head defiantly. "Don't tell me. Just do it. You're already decided on it anyway and I don't want to get involved—"

"You're involved in your brother's welfare whether you like it or not—"

"Well, I don't want him! I don't want him anymore! I never wanted him!" Mihael's voice was angrier, louder and determined. Tears didn't stain his cheeks. Anger was written on his eyes. "I wish he was dead!"

He saw his mother's face fell and that her eyes did water. His father stood up to grab him but he ran back to his room and bolted the door. He threw himself to the bed. He punched the cushions. It was okay last night. Everything was okay between them again. Why did he have to ruin everything? Why wouldn't he just be normal even for once? Mihael buried his face on the pillows, suffocating himself, his chest heavy.

He heard his parents arguing. He heard his mother crying and accusing his father for always at work, coming home late. His father blamed her for pampering Nate and refusing to take him to the hospital for therapy. They were exchanging verbal blows and each word rang in his ears. He wanted to sink in the soft chunks of his futon and stay there forever. He couldn't admit what his parents had finally decided on. He just couldn't.

But why is he worried? There was no grief, no loss. Just the silent beckoning of things that he wished to be but never were.

He woke up that very morning certain that the mundane prospect of living is the same as the day before. But tonight will be the last day he and his brother will live in the same house.

The last three months became a blur. He hits his brother more than once everyday after coming to school. School was as difficult as its domestic counterpart. He was still secluded from the cliques and genuine friends come rare. The frustration was released through punching his brother. He never fights back, just stares at the stupid wall. He wanted to terrorize Nate because he wanted to break him. It wasn't fair for Mihael to be normal and live a crappy life while his brother was abnormal by medical terms and just stares blankly with almost everything.

Then one afternoon his brother fought back...hard...brutally. It was then Mihael realized he created a monster from his own unresolved angst. Neither of his parents or male neighbors can restrain Nate. Doctors advised confinement. Mihael was shaking in both awe and fear that Nate finally responded back to his violence.

He loved his brother, didn't he? So what is this? What is he doing? Two days before graduation, Mihael came home one day crying. He wasn't crying because he was sorry. He was crying because he was tired of being always angry and never really understanding why.

Nate was in his room, vegetated by medication. This night was supposed to be okay. His special teachers will take him away from them. He will leave now and Mihael will stop blaming him for everything wrong in his life. This night will make it all okay. He consoled himself as he remained sitting in a flight of stairs.

The car arrives and they take his half-asleep brother. There was a flashback at the back of his head. It was the day when he discovered Nate was different because he didn't want to play ball with him and preferred to stare at the Batman stickers. The flashback held itself before his eyes and Mihael collapsed inside. He went back to his room and just sat there in the bed, unable to cry.

He was in a state of dream, he has to be. The pain shoved itself in every crevice of his body, his mind and most importantly his heart. But he wasn't crying. He didn't sleep that night either. Days follow and he still hasn't grieved when he knew he should. The household was calm. The loud laughter from his brother no longer filled the space. He plays rock music as a substitute to the lull he can't stand but the haunting silence of his brother's absence was almost hard to forget.

His anger dispersed. He wasn't angry anymore but instead he felt nothing. It wasn't that bad but it provided him hours of cultivating his developing talent in writing. He stored the papers in a box, mostly literature about Nate and journals that gave way to thoughts about reconciliation...about amendments. For the first time in the long years of resentment, Mihael was truly sorry.

_**2007**_

"Did you have a good time, Micky?"

Mihael put on the seatbelt and grinned at his dad. "Yeah, I think I aced it."

"Well, you better. Your grandfather would be disappointed if he can't have you in this school, boy."

His father started to drive to the nearest McDonalds. "So you sure about this, Micky? Do you really want to major in Special Education?"

Mihael laughed. "Dad, we've been over this."

"Sure, but—"

Mihael cut him off. "I know I want this, dad. We both know why."

His dad says nothing. Mihael looked at the cars in front of them and he absentmindedly traced a finger on his scar.


	3. Jargon Discourse

"_**You think the only people who are people are the people who look and think like you but if you walk the footsteps of a stranger, you'll learn things you never knew, you never knew..." -**_**COLORS OF THE WIND-**

**Jargon ****discourse**

**2007**

"Why don't we just order a take-out?" Mihael's dad suggested as they paused to look for a free space. The radio was blaring Eminem and his father asked Mihael to choose a different CD four times already. Mihael just laughed and told him to bear the culture for a while because he was in the mood for some urbane white trash. Before his father would argue that music like this is too profane even for the open-minded, his son looked across the parking lane and pointed at a vacant section.

"There, dad. I'm meeting Matt inside."

"Oh, you boys haven't seen each other lately, haven't you?" Domingo Wammy smiled. He was one of those fathers who are neither too strict nor too lax.

Mihael was closer to his dad since his mom was too consumed with Nate that there are days in the past when Mihael thought he lived in a house with not only one, but two strangers. Her solemn disposition also doesn't help for Mihael to warm up with her. Clarice Wammy was a dainty woman, five feet flat but with strong arms and an agile stance. Mihael watch her crumble several times though, when it comes to taking care of Nate. His father never showed that much concern but he helped when he could. He was frustrated with Nate too but he's a parent and parents should love their children no matter what package they came from. Mihael knew well how his parents wished Nate arrived with an instructional manual.

There was a knock on the window in Domingo's side. He rolled down his window and grinned at the redhead teenage boy. "Mattie!"

"Hey, Mr. Dong!" Matt glanced at Mihael and slightly winked.

"Okay fine, I'd park here and you boys pig out."

Mihael stepped out of the car and followed Matt inside McDonalds.

"What you wanna eat, bro?"

"Four large French fries."

Matt winced. "Be thankful your ass doesn't get fat from this fry addiction of yours. Though I won't be surprised since you eat chocolate daily too and your waist line hasn't suffered."

"Matt, we're not girls. Why are we bitching about our weight now, eh?" Mihael glared at him suspiciously. "Are you seeing one of those skinny gals you hook up with for no reason other than a good lay?"

Matt grinned, trying to charm. Mihael rolled his eyes and shoved him off to take his order. Matt ordered a Big Mac and they settled to a table nearest to the door.

"So..." Matt took a huge bite on the burger. "Still gay?"

Mihael almost choked his coke through his nose. "You're a moron. Where did you get that notion?"

"Let's see...pretty boy with no girlfriend, used to hang out with me all the time like a clinging puppy and yeah, your fondness for sparkly silver jewelry gives way to the conclusion—"

"Dumb ass!" Mihael yelled loud enough for even the waitresses in the counter to hear them. Matt snorted a laugh.

"Chill, dude."

"It's not funny. Don't insult my clothes."

"You mean, this emo dress?" Matt pointed at the dark shirt with a faded skull head and blood drips on the design and the low-waist jeans. Then he looked up to meet his best friend's blue eyes almost hidden by the unruly blond bangs. "Or your hair?"

"I like it long, so what?"

Matt laughed this time. Mihael can't help but smirk. It has been ages.

"Why did we wait two years for us to see each other again?" Matt asked in a more serious tone this time.

"Cause we're both going to Wammy University, duh."

"Ah, isn't Nearie in Wammy House?"

Mihael looked down at his fries when his brother's name was brought up. "Yeah, for the last four years."

Matt saw the expression on Mihael's face but he didn't need to ask how he feels because he knew by heart how it's always been for Mihael. "Hey, Linda's there too but I guess they're in different sections. Nearie must be well-adjusted by now, right?"

Mihael placed his cheek on one hand and rested his elbow on the table. He took a fry and chewed on it. "As far as I know, he's been in one of those programs for child prodigies. There are seven of them, I think. Near is the highest badass genius there, I believe."

"You calling your brother a badass genius now and no longer a retarded jerk, wow, that's...whoa!" Matt blinked, sniffed and then he covered his eyes with a hand. "I think my tears are just coming and I can't make them stop."

"Lame!" Mihael kicked him from under the table.

Domingo was behind Mihael somehow and he was playfully tapping Mihael's untidy mattress of blond locks. "Micky has been bugging me about getting Nate to stay for Christmas last year."

Matt smiled wickedly. "Hell, isn't our bad boy losing his edge?"

Mihael kicked him directly on the shin. Matt groaned but he laughed.

"Sadly, his grandfather thought it's best that Mihael can only see Nate once he finishes college," Domingo hinted some sadness in his tone. Matt looked away slightly and Mihael just stared at his fries.

Domingo just ordered some take-out and they went back to the car. As they were walking, Matt paused to touch Mihael's shoulder and his friend looked at him, puzzled. Matt smiled gently and flicked off some fallen hair on his friend's forehead. He touched the outline of his scar. Mihael smiled back.

"And you're the one calling me gay," Mihael pushed Matt slightly.

"Can't help it, always been in love with you!" Matt placed his lanky arms on Mihael's shoulders and they almost fell to the ground.

"God damn, Matt!"

"Hey, boys, Brokeback Mountain can wait later."

"You too, Dad!"

"Me what?" Domingo was getting inside his car.

"You're lame, both of you!" Mihael run back to the car before Matt can tackle him.

**2003**

**Four months before Nate's been institutionalized**

Every Tuesday night Matt would bring a series of girl friends in his bedroom to experiment. He would of course engage in sexual curiosity, exploring the female anatomy to the fullest of his capacities as a normal, horny teenage boy. Matt wasn't embarrassed nor was he really thinking about his actions. Testosterone has that funny way to make you immune to common sense. Needless to say Matt isn't just a horny, teenage boy. He and Mihael could've met and became best friends in different circumstances but they didn't. Mihael is the kind of teenage boy, wait, the kind of _young man_ who doesn't have time to deal with people's BS so he didn't tolerate Matt for his teenage deviancy.

Mihael is the level-headed guy with an easy temperament; unless of course his brother enters the scenario and everything starts to break in the edges of his carefully-constructed moods. Matt found Mihael to be always interesting, always perplexing and always...lonely, maybe, and yet headstrong, so headstrong that it makes Matt even more interested and perplexed. He and Mihael met not in one of his Tuesday nights of extravagance. It was a cold winter season two years ago.

Matt still remembered what Mihael wore that day: red coat with white frills in the hem, tight black jeans and a big crucifix around his neck. He wore a tight leather black shirt inside and from afar, despite that he lacks curves, he would be mistaken for a cute girl with a boyish gait because of those blond locks. Matt almost whistled when he walked by and it was lucky for him he realized the gender of the angst-ridden boy. He blushed quickly and looked the other way.

After a while he caught Mihael sitting in one of the swings in the playground, consuming a chocolate bar, the red hood and golden bangs covering his chiseled features just perfectly under the white snow. Matt didn't really notice him much since he was with his eleven-year old cousin Linda. She was wearing her auburn hair in pigtails with yellow ribbons that Matt put on himself. Her cheeks that were pale are blotched with red and she was signaling with her hands. Matt focused on her.

_Do you want to buy some hot soup in the Chinese restaurant across the street? _Linda moved her hands as she formed the words using them. His cousin has a hearing disability and she started to use sign language since she was only five. Matt was also asked to learn it and he didn't mind at all.

He grinned at her and signaled back, swiftly moving his hands as she watched, _I like noodles. Do you want that?_

Linda nodded happily and added as she made some more motions with her hands, _I will take anything just as long as it's warm. It's cold out here._

Matt placed his arms around her neck and pulled her head to his chest, embracing her lightly. Linda giggled and pulled herself away from him slightly. Then she said with her hands, _Why don't you in invite that boy? He's been looking at us since he came around._

Matt glanced at the blond boy who met his eyes. He didn't look away from Matt and it was obvious that he was a little amused with Linda's sign language. Matt decided to approach him. Mihael didn't move or shift uncomfortably. There was that seething arrogance that Matt didn't approve on. Mihael still kept his eyes on the redhead boy.

"My cousin wants to meet you." Matt said cordially.

Mihael glanced at Linda as she stood there, small and cold in the middle of the white sheet of snow she is standing on. Then he glanced back at Matt.

"Is she deaf?"

Matt nodded kindly. Mihael's face was completely blank as he asked him nonchalantly. "Do you like her around?"

It was so sudden that Matt didn't answer immediately. Then he grinned and said, "Linda is my special girl. She is really smart and funny. You should meet her. What's your name, by the way? Mine's Matt."

"Mihael," he answered quietly and stuck his lower lip to blow his bangs away from his eyes, a gesture that Matt found cute.

"Have you met children like her before?" Matt asked him, trying to gain his trust.

"Had." Mihael simply answered, looking off from a corner, eyebrows knitted like he is always this moody.

"Really? Is it from a special school?"

"My brother," Mihael began but he said nothing after that.

"Is he special too?"

Mihael suddenly chuckled bitterly then he looked back at Matt, his voice thick with unexpected sarcasm. "Yeah, a special kind of crazy."

Matt frowned a little. Then he saw Linda approaching them. She gave Mihael a smile then she signaled her cousin, _Ask him what happened to his face._

Matt asked Mihael, "How did you get that scar in your face?"

Mihael seemed to be used to this question before. And he was since he offhandedly replied, "My brother took an iron and pressed it to my face when I was ten."

Linda watched at Matt carefully signaled it to her. She gasped a little and asked again with her hands, _What's his brother's condition?"_

Mihael watched silently and Matt nervously asked, "What's your brother's diagnosis?"

"Autism savant," Mihael answered as if that repulsed him. Then he looked at Linda, glared, more like it. And he began to move his hands in the way Linda understood and to which Matt was also equally surprised about.

Mihael signaled, _I know you. I see you watch me play guitar in our balcony across the street. You wonder, don't you? About the sound, about the music._

Linda slowly and absentmindedly nodded and signaled back, _Yes, I think you create good music—_

She wasn't finished yet when he laughed. He stood up and brushed the snow that rested on his lap. Then he took a large bite on his chocolate. He pocketed it and then signaled, _You wouldn't know that for sure, won't you?_

Matt was about to intervene but Mihael kept up the sign language, _You would, never ever know. _He emphasized "never" firmly.

"What's your problem, man?" Matt was trying his best to be composed. He saw the fleeting expression of hurt in Linda's eyes then she managed to glare back at Mihael as she signaled quickly.

_Why are you so angry? _Linda was saying with her hands, looking at Mihael in the eye. _Why are you so sad about everything you see and feel like you wanted more?_

Mihael replied slowly, his hands eloquent in the language few people know. _It's because I am angry and sad about everything people like you see and feel like you wanted more of it too._

Linda shook her head and answered back, flapping her hands and twirling her fingers coherently, _We are happy about being what we are and your brother is also happy and even though you can't see that, it's only because you are more disabled in many ways than we are._

Mihael chuckled at that and signaled back furiously, _Can you sing, Linda? Can you hear me when I say—_He stopped and muttered faintly. "You are not special."

Matt pushed Mihael away angrily. "Get the hell away from us!"

Mihael didn't care about this. He grabbed his chocolate bar and took a bite on it and eyed Matt with an amused glare. When he finished munching on the sweet treat, he said to him, "You'll get sick of it, dude, mark my words."

Matt recalls that incident everyday since he and Mihael became best friends. It was weird but a month after that he saw Mihael punching a bigger boy in the same playground. It was early in the morning when the kids gathered around to see a very angry Mihael throwing punches without mercy. Matt asked what happened and the kids said that the bigger boy was bullying and calling Mihael's brother names like "horse shit" and "weird freak." Matt looked at a boy sitting away from the rest of them, his fingers twirling his curly silver hair calmly, ignoring and completely oblivious of the whole situation. Matt felt the urge to stop Mihael. He threw himself to restrain the boy who already pounded the bully's face as if it was orange fruit.

Mihael was crying, tears brimming from red-shot eyes. Matt held him firmly as he heard him muttering over and over, "I'm sick of it. I'm sick of it. I'm sick of it..."

A teacher came. He helped Matt pull Mihael away then he yelled at the kids to call the nurse.

Matt found himself hugging Mihael, calming him down, assuring him it's over.

Mihael pushed him off. "It's not! Mind your business!"

He walked to his brother who was still sitting there, looking at the ants drowning in the mud in front of him (or at least that's how it looks like.) Mihael grabbed his brother's arm and the younger one followed. They walked away from the other kids who dared not to mutter a single word, both out of fear and shame. The teacher didn't bother stopping them.

Matt still stood there even when everybody left. He couldn't forget that day he understood what Mihael said before.

_You are not special..._

Then he saw the way Mihael harshly pulled his brother away from the prejudicing crowd with all strength he had.

_You are not__ special._

_You are just my brother_.

---

So it was a Tuesday night.

The girl was Nancy and she was just zipping her jeans back when Mihael climbed up the window and made his way inside Matt's room easily. Nancy stifled a scream and frowned at the boy's unexpected visit. Matt was casually lying on his bed, topless and he greeted Mihael with a nod as he motioned him to tell him what's wrong.

"I have to kill him."

"But you won't, Micky."

"This time I will." Mihael was pacing around the room, ignoring Nancy who was watching him apprehensively. "I just—I can't deal with his crap anymore."

"You really are selfish, bro."

"Yeah and you're a fucking saint and who the fuck is this bitch now?" Mihael swerved a death glare at Nancy who let out a silent whimper.

Matt leaned himself forward. "Micky, we're not going to talk about it unless you stop being irrational."

"Don't you fucking order me to be rational, assface!"

"And the manners, more importantly, should be proper."

"Fuck you, Matt, just fuck you!" Mihael kicked the trash bin and Nancy hurriedly kissed Matt goodbye and climbed down the window still.

"Micky—"

"Eat shit, Matt, I won't be listening to you and your spiritual guidance crap again. This time I really had it! You hear me? I fucking want to kill Near!"

"Micky, please," Matt stood up and placed a hand on Mello's wrist. Mihael didn't like to be touched when he is mad but he allowed Matt whenever he was losing his head. Matt held Mihael tightly and waited for him to calm down.

"Now tell me what happened."

Mihael sighed. "He—he was listening and pretending like he didn't understand any of it but he knew...he was mocking me..."

"What do you—"

"Mom wants me to take Near to school by myself." Mello cut him off. "I have been doing that but I stopped two years ago. Hal can do that but mom said I should keep a strong bond between us. I don't know what the hell she is expecting but I am not giving it to her. She said I'm a disappointment and a week after, Near repeated that phrase to me just now. He must have heard the conversation. The little chicken shit has the nerve to—"

"Nearie has echolalia, Micky."

"Don't give me the goddamn technical term, I know that!"

"And for that you want to kill him?"

Mihael blew his bangs away again and then sighed. "It's just the rage talking, I guess. Still, he was mocking me."

"He was not."

"Don't take his side."

"Nearie is autistic, Micky. His actions don't mean any equivalence to any emotion."

"You're full of shit."

Matt held him firmer and looked at him steadily in the eye. "Stop this, Mihael. You and I both know you wanted to think Nearie actually is mocking you. It would make him seem more human and responsive."

"Fuck you," Mihael jerked him off. "I hate it when you say that. You know I don't like you pointing that out so just fuck you, Matt."

"You really need to stop saying that. I might take it seriously."

"Gross, Matt, aren't you done with sex yet?" Mihael made a face, calming down a little. "Was that bitch any good?"

"You know me, man, I got hots for you."

"Too fucking gay, Matt."

Both of them laughed. They have a way to complete each other sometimes.

"Micky, what are you gonna do now?" Matt kept his eyes on his best friend.

"I like to stay here for tonight."

"You told Hal about this?"

"I was outta there first thing in the morning."

"Oh?" Matt pulled a fresh shirt from his drawer and put it on. "Where did you go before you decided to be here?"

"Around the neighborhood, I guess." Mihael placed his hand on the unruly blond hair and scratched it persistently as he talked. "I was just thinking."

Matt motioned his head to the plastic bag Mihael was carrying. "And that?"

Mihael seemed to hesitate to tell him what's inside the plastic bag. He debated on it for a long time. Finally, he placed it down on Matt's desk and said nothing. Matt took this a cue to look inside. He pulled the box and smiled at it before he said to Mihael, "You're full of contradictions, dude."

"Shut up," Mihael shifted his gaze uncomfortably.

"If you want to kill your bro, dude, why'd ya buy him a new box of puzzles?" Matt was really amused. He watched Mihael's reaction.

"I was thinking," Mihael simply answered, resting his cold blue eyes on the box Matt was holding. Then he snatched it away, "Forget it, I'll return the damn thing."

"Oh come on!" Matt grabbed it back. "You already bought it. That's gotta mean something."

"Like what?" Mihael snapped. "I'll tell you what! It's a force of habit, buying Nearie stuff. It doesn't mean anything deeper than that."

He snatched again the box and tossed it to the opposite wall. "Just a goddamn force of habit."

"To buy him stuff he likes even though you're angry?" Matt shrugged his shoulders. "Sounds to me like you're still reaching out."

"There you go again." Mihael was too tired to protest. He has been walking around for hours and he just wants to rest. He immediately collapsed in Matt's bed, not even bothering removing his footwear.

"Fine," Matt gave in. "You could stay here. Have you eaten any dinner yet?"

Mello shook his head gravely. Matt took a chocolate bar from the drawer. He handed it to Mello who took it feebly. Then with the other hand he squeezed Matt's hand appreciatively. Matt met his best friend's eyes. Then Mihael smiled. It was, how would you call it? Serene, Matt thought, that smile is serene, something you would not expect from Mihael's personality.

"Thanks, Matt." The smile said.

Matt just nodded and turned away, leaving Mihael to chew on his favorite treat. Matt then laid himself down the sheets, yawning and exhausted from the recent activity. Then he said, "I wish you were a girl sometimes."

"Fuck you."

---

The next morning Mihael didn't plan on going back. He would like to avoid the place just a few more days before his parents come home. Mihael was quite confident that Hal wouldn't tell. It was, Mihael thought pensively, for the best. He needed to be away. He was suffocating from the drama and his immaturity. It was almost painful to know that Nate could always bring out the worst in him.

---

Matt's parents liked Mihael a lot. He was courteous enough to make the right responses that Matt would give him you-are-so-fake-pretty-boy look when his parents weren't looking. Mihael gives him the finger every time.

Linda happened to visit that very day and she gave Mello a tight hug when she saw him. She signaled his name, doing the sign language for the letter "M" and placing it on her left eye to indicate Mihael's prominent feature was that burn mark from years ago. Mihael did the letter "L" with two hands, placing it on either side of his head, the index fingers touching the lower part of the ear slightly as the thumb rested on the shoulders, indicating Linda's pigtails as her prominent feature. The past was already forgotten and they've been close since then. Matt would watch Mihael and Linda discourse through the movements of their hands. He didn't join them. He gets too lost in the moment of silence and complete understanding.

Linda moved gracefully as she told Mihael how she celebrated her birthday a month ago and said that she was sad that Mihael couldn't come. Mihael said he was sorry, gesturing eloquently with his own hands, smiling rather boyishly as he explained that he had to join his brother's graduation party in the special school he is attending to. Linda asked how Nate was. She placed the letter "N" on her hair, because she knew Nate's habit of twisting a strand of hair. Mihael didn't directly answer that and told her instead that he wouldn't be coming home for at least two days. Matt decided to join them.

_Micky__ and I are happy to have you, Linda, _Matt gestured with a smile.

Linda giggled and answered back with swift hands, _You got taller than the last time. And Micky got prettier._

The three of them laughed.

Then Linda took Mihael's right hand and made him press it against his chest. Then she let go to talk with him with her hands, _He is always there, Micky. Let him in._

Mihael's expression clouded then he signaled back, _He wouldn't let me in so why the fuck should I bother at all? You really should let me live with my choice, Linda._

_It's not about you anymore. _Linda answered.

Mihael gave her a slight glare and motioned, _Yeah, it's always about him._

Linda shook her head and responded, _You have grown now, Micky. Why are you still angry?_

Matt kept quiet and waited Mihael to answer that. Mihael didn't really like it when Linda would force him to talk about Nate. He immediately stood up and Linda furiously signaled to him, _why did you stop loving him? Before he has hurt you, (_she gestured at the burn mark on the left portion of his face) _tell me, did you ever truly love him?_

Mihael waited for her to finish. Then he slowly raised his hands to answer. Matt saw the look of loss in Mihael's eyes and understood from then on that it was never going to be easy between the two brothers.

Mello gestured with a blank face.

_Who says...__I don't love him now?_

---

"Micky, wait up!"

Matt tried to catch his breath when Mihael finally stopped at a store located on the other side of the street. His best friend didn't pay attention to him until Matt brought himself up after collapsing on his knees.

"Your cousin is cool to be around," Mihael remarked. "But can't she find another topic to discuss with me besides Near?"

"She just wants to know—"

"What the hell is there to know about more?" Mihael crossed his arms against his chest, his eyes narrowing.

Matt didn't have any answer for him so Mihael continued to walk away. He knew what he has to do right now. He passed several more streets before he reached his house. As he expected, Nate was in the balcony, working on a tower made of dice. Mihael saw the red ball on the corner beside his mother's flowers. He took it and aimed it right at Nate's project. When the tower of die collapsed, Nate didn't even say anything. He did, however, rocked back and forth.

"I'm home, bitch." Mihael regarded his younger brother haughtily.

No response. Mihael didn't care anymore.

"Fix it," he demanded. "Fix the stupid thing."

Nate didn't have to be told otherwise. He started on working on the destroyed masterpiece, devoid of all worries. Mihael went back inside the house. Matt wanted to help Nate to fix the stuff but he knew it would only make Mihael angry. So he remained where he was.

A week after that, Matt found Mihael in the playground and they walked back to his house together.

He was in the living room when he asked Mihael for some snacks. In the bedroom he saw Mihael kneeling in front of his bed and crying. Matt asked why but Mihael only asked back something the two of them never had the answer for.

With blue eyes leaking with tears, Mihael demanded. "Why am I so angry at him?"

Matt can't answer that for him, at least not today.

**2007**

Clarice Wammy stood in front of her lawn.

She watched her husband take the boys out for some friendly game of baseball. She sipped on her coffee mug and watched her eldest son move gracefully, running on every corner, his long limbs seem to flow restlessly.

As she settled down the mug at the table beside her, she took a step forward, hesitated, and then stepped back again.

When Mihael looked her way, she wasn't there anymore. At first he thought she was looking at him intently but he knew his mother never looks at him that long. She only looks at Nate. Mihael never really knew this woman, the one he called his mother.

He wonders if they could ever talk and find out that they might have more things in common than they could ever imagine.


End file.
